Liaden Universe 20: The Gathering Edge

by Sharon Lee

  She handed him a small box that he had passed to her only moments before.

  It was labeled Box 13 in a very neat hand and under that was written Meefa. Beneath the slightly cloudy outer seal was packaging easily read, in Terran.

  “Child’s Encyclopedic Library of Games, Jokes, and JeeJaws?”

  “Yes. Look on the other side.” She spoke in safe, unnuanced Terran.

  “Ideal for children eight to eleven, with family games included.”

  Win Ton felt the tension, felt her eyes on his face as if she was willing him to hear what she hadn’t quite said.

  “Meefa,” he said now, changing his intonation toward the Terran, realizing that there had been small inscriptions on some of the other boxes, which he had simply ignored, deeming them not important. Hardly the sort of attention one expected from a Scout, he thought, cheeks heating. Apparently, he had more to recover than mere reflexes and muscle tone.

  He handed the box back to Kara with a bow thanking her for her instruction, and pulled another box at random from the bin, this one small and dense. Box 17.

  He repeated the number in Terran, out of respect for the list, and read through the transparent seal, “Jigat’s personal set of ten gaming dice?” He paused, considered, permitted his sigh to escape. “I see that we have not thought this through.”

  She bowed in agreement, very lightly, with neither irony nor superiority inflected.

  He was senior, here and now; it was for him to speak, to acknowledge what was here, and how it came to be here.

  “The crew of Bechimo inherits from the crew of Bechimo. All honor to them, to the Uncle for equipping them as kin, and to Bechimo for guarding their estate. It is as if we have received their debt books.”

  They bowed together, in the direction of the bin and the boxes.

  “We will record the names, so that we may properly explain to Theo,” he began, but Kara had already pulled out her note taker.

  * * * * *

  “Theo?”

  “Clarence?”

  The bridge had been quiet for the last quarter hour. No new input from Bechimo, no news from Kara and Win Ton down at the locker; no answer to her request that someone from the Pilots Guild get in touch with her.

  They had been getting running summaries—some of them quite pithy, as if Joyita had found the sarcasm-and-irony generator deep inside his programming—of the offers, catalogs, and off-topic messages streaming to them from Minot Station.

  Joyita shared out the incoming for them to double-check and generally delete.

  “Have you considered how you’re going to visit Pilot Tranza?” Clarence asked.

  “How?” Theo glanced at him and saw the question was serious. She hadn’t actually said she was going, but—

  “How.” He was talking Terran and let his emphatic native accent climb into it for extra measure.

  “I take it for granted you’ve decided to go. Never was anybody in your line could leave a friend in trouble. I reckon that’s hard-wired into the DNA. But we’re under backup mode, if I’m remembering right, so you’ll need somebody else to go with you. There has to be official contact made with Minot, letting them know you got a vested interest in the man. And you need to officially find out what got his ship arrested.”

  Joyita harrumphed, and not over a catalog.

  “Clarence, pardon, we have a file. We have been diligent.”

  Clarence glared up at the screen and snapped his fingers.

  “We can have all the files you can snabble off the wire, comm tech, but we gotta have that info officially else they’ll know we’re reading their mail.”

  Silence. Theo, who was watching the screen, saw Joyita frown.

  “I see,” he said, and glanced at the work screen on his left. There was some fiddling going on, as if he was entering something into a keypad and—

  “I have located the port workers’ social message board. I believe that as docked pilots, you have full access to this board. There have been several threads asking about Primadonna’s situation as well as discussions of Pilot Tever, now absent. I will send the contents and suggest you join at your earliest convenience.”

  Clarence half-looked at the ceiling, half at Theo, and laughed.

  “Port gossip’s about as official as you can get, I guess. ’Course everyone wants the inside news…geez. So it’s all fine now that we’re reading their mail, right?”

  Theo watched Tab Two grow an edge that eventually designated itself Tab Three. She accessed it and blinked at the webwork of threaded conversations, until she saw a thread labeled Primadonna, and toggled it.

  A couple of postings in, and she to admit that the Minot Station workers had the news all right, inside layers and layers of supposition, confusion, and truth. She read on, until she sort of felt Clarence waiting for her to answer him.

  Without looking away from the screen, she said, “I’m going to visit as a former copilot of record. You’ll stay here, in case of customs or a welcome committee for the ambassador.

  “I’ll take…” She paused, as she read past the gossip to the information.

  Minot Station was a rougher port than she liked, though she’d been on rougher, and Pilot Tever, lately copilot on Primadonna, had gained himself a minor reputation as a quick-tempered, brawling conman, and a bigger one as a thief. The casual acceptance among the posters of back-hall fights made her wary. Absolutely, she should take someone with her. Crew should go in pairs on this port. She reminded herself to make that clear.

  Almost she said, “Stost,” into Clarence’s waiting silence but, no. Stost’s ID was from the Old Universe. He was more invisible than Joyita, so far as a record trail went. And she really didn’t want to start a panic, if somebody decided there was an Yxtrang on-station.

  So, if neither Stost, nor Chernak, nor Clarence, then who, Theo? she asked herself kindly and fuffed her bangs off of her forehead.

  “You’re right, I do have to go,” she said at last. “This doesn’t seem a friendly port for Liadens, but Win Ton will have to come with me. He’s taller than Kara, and me, if it comes to that.”

  She heard a sort of strangled noise from her copilot, like he’d laughed and sneezed at the same time, but when she looked over, his attention was apparently on his screen.

  “I’m taller than Win Ton and Kara together, in case that’s escaped you. Captain, I volunteer to go as your emissary.”

  He paused, pushed a button low on his board, and nodded.

  “I’m getting the rest of the feed now and the gossip sheet. Up to the Minot, is it? Somebody’s sharp enough to cut.”

  That was a Liaden phrase. Brought into Terran, it had all the subtlety of a star hammer against hull plate.

  Theo managed not to laugh, but she did grin—and there on her screen was the legal feed, and the gossip sheet, too.

  She found the threads she’d been reading again, saw that they were even more complicated than those Joyita had provided. She copied and shared with Clarence one commentary:

  Pilot Tranza’s not going to have happy bosses. Don’t say much for him or his security if he can’t keep the copilot out of the treasury.

  Another was more animated: Tever ever shows his face where I can see it, he’ll find out a McKathy can hit a man from behind, too. I swear my head’s still ringing. Me, I’ll use a wrench or a hammer on the gasper!

  Theo stopped reading, hand to forehead in exasperation and worry.

  “They used double-truth on Rig, this one thinks. Do we have any records on this Tever anywhere? That’s Aiji Tever, lists Walston Harrow as a home port.”

  From Clarence, a long, low whistle.

  “Tell you what, Theo. I’m thinking this isn’t just somebody jumping ship with the cashables. Port’s arrested the ship all right, says here in the gossip that second board ordered all kinds of special and expensives on ship’s credit, and walked away with them. So’s not just whatever cash happened to be in the boot, but he drained the ship’s account, too. Just hap
pened to be a ship from Walston Harrow on-station at the time. Bet is there’s more than one hand in the batter here. Your Rig’s probably famous for his honesty, and that’s the easiest target there is. In the meantime, the bad actor and his accomplice get away with the goods and the cash, and the ship can’t pay her docking fees.”

  Theo sighed.

  “I’m wondering where Rig got him. He had to have come from Hugglelans; Rig wouldn’t take an indie on, not on Primadonna. And Hugglelans screens applicants hard.”

  Clarence shrugged.

  “I’ll ask him the question for you, Pilot, once I get to see him.”

  He said it like it was settled, but she let it go for the moment in favor of curiosity.

  “Joyita, assemble what’s available on Tever, rumor and facts, and for that matter on Walston Harrow’s piloting schools and trade associations. I’ll look at the report at shift end. Nobody’s leaving the ship before then, anyway.”

  * * * * *

  Win Ton and Kara had finished clearing the locker, placing those things that they knew to be spoiled into recycling. Each of the other four piles went into its own crate, clearly labeled as to contents, and placed, pending captain’s orders, into an empty, unsealed locker.

  The learning units, they carried to the engineering workroom and left them on the bench.

  Then they went to the bridge, Kara with note taker in hand, to find Theo.

  She was in discussion with Clarence, but broke off when they entered, and spun her chair to face them. Win Ton stood slightly behind Kara and to her right, so that she might speak first.

  “How’s the work going?” Theo asked.

  “We have finished a preinventory sort,” Kara said. “Our priority was locating the learning units, which we have done.”

  Theo smiled. “Excellent! How many?”

  “Three portable units, Captain. We’ve taken them to engineering for testing.”

  “Do we have the ability to test them fully?” Theo asked. “Did you find instructions?”

  Joyita answered before Kara could speak.

  “We have the test equipment—the engineering workroom has the equipment to verify circuit integrity. Assuming all or any of the units pass integrity testing, we can run mock learning sessions before we embark on short-term volunteer testing. I have all of the instructions, as does Bechimo. The units should be serial numbered. We can test serially, or in parallel, as Kara sees best.”

  “Good,” said Theo. “Thank you.”

  She nodded to Kara and glanced to Win Ton, meaning, so he thought, to dismiss them to their meal. He believed he had himself under control—certainly Kara had recovered her composure—but Theo apparently saw…something, as her next question proved.

  “There’s something other than the learning units?”

  “Yes,” said Kara, “there is. There is this.”

  She handed Theo the note taker.

  “I see a list of names,” Theo said, after a glance at the little device.

  She looked up, again to Kara, and then Win Ton.

  “Who are these people?”

  “They…” Kara looked to him, and he stepped forward to her side, so that they might speak to Theo equally.

  “We believe that these are the names of those who comprised Bechimo’s intended first crew,” he said, and hesitated.

  Kara caught up the narrative. “There were games and stuffed toys in the locker, with clothing and other items of a more personal nature, such as tea marked for the captain.”

  “There were children among the first crew?”

  “Bechimo had been built as a long-looper,” Win Ton reminded her. “A family ship.”

  “The first crew never arrived aboard,” Clarence said quietly from his post, as if he were simply reminding them—or perhaps he was reminding Theo. “Bechimo got an emergency warn-away, and he went.”

  “A warn-away and a confirmation,” Theo said, her eyes downturned, perhaps reading the names again or perhaps not.

  “Bechimo,” she said very calmly.

  “Yes, Theo?”

  “Do you remember the last time we talked about your first crew?”

  “Yes, Theo.”

  “Do these names mean anything to you?”

  She raised the note taker.

  “Yes, Theo. Those names were on the crew roster I had from the Founders.”

  “All right.”

  She lowered the note taker and offered it to Kara, who took it and slipped it away into a pocket, with a worried glance at Theo’s face. Win Ton didn’t blame her; he was feeling slightly alarmed himself. A quick look aside found Clarence watching with interest, but no apparent concern.

  “The last time we spoke about your first crew,” Theo continued, “you said that the identity of the person who gave you the emergency order to withdraw was available only to the bonded captain. I ask the question now, as your bonded captain: Who gave you the order to withdraw?”

  She did not say, Win Ton noted, “…and abandon your crew,” a wise omission in his opinion.

  “The order to utilize emergency programming came from Jermone Joyita, who had been my mentor and brought me to full consciousness.”

  “Joyita wasn’t a Founder.” That was Clarence, reminding one again that a man who had been the Juntavas Boss of Solcintra Port for more than twenty Standards could not be an idiot. “I’m guessing there were codes involved to initiate emergency operations.”

  “Joyita was not a Founder,” Bechimo agreed. “The nature of his work with me made it necessary for him to have the codes.” He paused. “I believe that the captain-elect was to have changed them upon arrival on deck.”

  “But she hadn’t got on deck before the emergency,” Theo finished. “Who gave the confirmation, Bechimo?”

  “Founder Yuri Tomas. It was Founder Tomas who told me that my crew were no longer available to me and who advised me to await developments.”

  “Yuri Tomas?” Theo repeated.

  “Joyita addressed him as Uncle,” said Bechimo, “though they were not related biologically.”

  “I thought Uncle was banned from your decks,” Theo said.

  “That was after. He was a Founder. He had the codes and the authority.”

  “Both of them ordering you to go into full emergency mode says to me—understand, I’ve got some experience here—It says to me that your crew had already been lost. If that hadn’t been the case, they’d’ve given you return orders or a rendezvous point.”

  There was a long pause before Bechimo spoke, and when he did so, his voice was somber.

  “Thank you, Clarence. I believe that you must be correct.”

  Theo sighed.

  “Thank you, Bechimo—and Clarence. I’m glad to know the full history. Now.”

  She looked at Kara. When she moved her gaze to him, Win Ton dared a small bow. She ignored it.

  “What needs to be done—with these names?”

  “We need to…honor them,” Kara said slowly, clearly struggling to fit the concepts that came so naturally in Liaden thought and Liaden social structure, into the crude framework of Terran. “We—it is as if we have been given their debt book. It is…too late to Balance for them. But we can remember them, and remember that what we have—ship, captain, and crew—comes to us from their hands.”

  It was, thought Win Ton, a good effort. Whether it was sufficient to make the matter plain to Theo or would require…

  “All right,” Theo said, and stood up.

  “Bechimo. Joyita.”

  “Yes, Theo,” Bechimo said.

  “Captain.”

  “I want the two of you to collaborate on finding the histories of these names—these…honored members of Bechimo’s crew. Also, find out what happened to them and why it happened. When you think you have enough biographical data, let me know. We’ll arrange a whole-crew fancy dinner, to hear it all out and—celebrate them. In the meantime, please let the log show that we acknowledge ourselves as Bechimo’s second crew, inherit
ing from the first crew—and list the names. All the names.”

  “Yes, Theo,” said Bechimo and Joyita together.

  “Is this sufficient?” Theo asked, looking from him to Kara. “Is there anything else that should—that needs—to be done?”

  Kara bowed, honor to the captain, though so deeply and held so long that it came perilously close to honor to the delm.

  “Their honor is made whole. It is what we may do. Thank you, Captain.”

  It was Win Ton’s turn to bow, and he abruptly found himself of Kara’s mind, and thus bowed too deeply to the captain’s honor, and counted the heartbeats—not the full six, but five—before he straightened and smiled at her.

  “It is done well, Captain. Thank you.”

  “Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” Theo said, inclining her head, as if she were delm, indeed, and took their bows as her due. Which was well enough, Win Ton thought. Theo was…not entirely well versed in the matter of bows. She would have seen honor to the captain and been satisfied there.

  Well, no matter, he thought. If Theo could not read it, at least he—and Kara—knew what they had given.

  He turned toward the galley and the meal break, and in so doing met Clarence’s speculative eye.

  Ah, yes, of course.

  Clarence O’Berin, once Boss of Solcintra Port and very well versed in the language of bows, also knew what they had given.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Bechimo

  Bridge

  Kara had eaten quickly and taken herself off to engineering to begin the circuit checks on the three learning units, leaving Win Ton the sole occupant of the galley. He ate a quiet, leisurely meal, thinking about melant’i, about his clan, and about the fact that, despite a Liaden father, Theo was Terran.

  In the midst of these ruminations, he was joined by Hevelin, who sat in his lap and murbled gently, seeming to have nothing to share save the considerable comfort of his presence.

  At the quarter hour, Win Ton reluctantly relocated his lunchmate to the next chair, rose, put his bowl and cup into the washer, and went out to the bridge to relieve Clarence.

  Absorbed still in his own thoughts, he did not notice Hevelin until the door slid aside and the norbear excitedly rushed past him—